by Bobbi Smith
"A visit? To whom?" He frowned, wondering who would have sent the invitation.
"She received a note from Mrs. Clark, sir, and she left quite early."
"Maybe I'd better take a ride down to the Providence. Have a horse brought around for me, will you?"
"Yes, sir." Mabel was relieved that he was going to look for his wife.
"Is Jon here?"
"He's in the study," she declared. When she had finished packing Jon's things earlier, she had come down to tell him, but the door had been shut so she'd hesitated to disturb him.
"Thanks." Mitch entered the room, expecting to find his brother, but it was dark and deserted. Confused, he looked in the parlor and then went upstairs to Jon's suite. "Mabel!" he called loudly as he came down the stairs.
"Yes?"
"Jon's not here."
"Surely, you're mistaken, sir. He told me he would be staying for dinner."
"No, I've looked everywhere. In fact, some of his things are packed."
"Yes, sir. I did that. Mr. Jonathan said he wanted to move out of the house tonight and that I should get some of his belongings together for him."
"He did?" Mitch was surprised.
"Yes. He said that you and Miss Espri might like to have the house to yourselves and that he was going to fix up a sleeping room down at your office, sir."
"I see," he answered, understanding Jon's need to get away. "But where is he now?"
"I don't know. I thought he was in the study all this time."
They walked slowly back into the dark study, and Mitch lit the lamp on the desk. The light it cast revealed that the center drawer was ajar and the gun was missing. "Damn," he muttered.
"Mr. Mitchell?"
"What is it?" He looked up to find her holding a sheet of paper.
"A note, sir, addressed to you. It was lying here on the floor."
Mitch strode quickly to her, and in disbelief, read the letter from Roland. "Oh, my God!"
"Sir?"
"He's kidnapped Espri, and Jon must have gone after him." The missive crumpled in his fist, he ran from the room, a distraught Mabel following him.
"Who?" she asked, but Mitch was already upstairs, heading for his bedroom, where he kept another gun. She waited at the foot of the steps for his return. "Where are you going?"
"I don't have time to explain now," he told her, strapping on his gun belt as he descended the staircase. "Just contact the police and have them meet me at Roland Stuart's office." Then he disappeared into the night, hoping he wasn't too late.
Roland smiled as he entered his office. Everything was working out perfectly. He had a loaded derringer hidden in his pocket, and he'd positioned Bill and Joe in strategic areas outside just in case Mitch or Jon tried something. He was as ready as he would ever be for the confrontation.
Moving to the desk, he lit a lamp and sat down, mentally reviewing the scenario. Mitch would show up, angry but controlled. They would hammer out the deal and then he would be sole owner of Williams Shipping. Stuart Shipping sounds good, Roland mused, and he said the name out loud.
"I wouldn't be too sure about that." Jon's voice cracked the stillness of the room as he stepped out from behind the drapes, gun in hand.
"Jon." Though stunned by his unexpected appearance, Roland disciplined his features into a mask of unconcern. "What are you doing here?"
"It just so happens that I intercepted a note from you addressed to my brother," Jon informed him smoothly as he kept the weapon pointed menacingly at Roland's chest. "There will be no sale of Williams Shipping, and there will be no harm done to Espri. Get her. Right now."
"I'm afraid I can't do that." Roland was stalling in the hope that one of the gunmen had seen Jon's shadow projected on the window and would come to investigate.
"What do you mean, you can't?"
"She's not here. I've left her with a friend for safekeeping."
"Then let's go get her!"
As Jon motioned Roland toward the door, it flew open and Bill barged in, gun blazing. He had seen Jon's shadow, as Roland had hoped he would, and had waited outside in the hall until he was certain he could take him by surprise.
Jon hadn't expected the intrusion, but he did manage to get off two shots in the gunman's direction before a bullet grazed his head. He fell, unconscious, to the floor just as Joe came running into the room with his gun drawn.
"Mr. Stuart, are you all right?" Joe asked, quickly checking on his boss, who had dived behind his desk for safety during the shootout.
"I'm fine. Check on Bill!"
"It's nothing serious," Bill called as he struggled to sit up. One of Jon's shots had winged him, but it was only a flesh wound of the upper arm.
"Good. Both of you, get Williams out of here before his brother shows up!" Roland straightened his clothes and looked disgustedly at Jon.
"Yes, sir," Bill answered as he tied a bandana about his wound to control the bleeding.
Joe bent over Jon. "Is he dead?" Roland asked.
"No, he's still breathin', but we'll take care of him."
"Just make sure you do a better job on him than you did on his brother!" Roland ordered sarcastically. "I can't afford any mistakes this time."
"We'll do it, Mr. Stuart," Joe assured him as they seized Jon's arms and started to drag him from the room.
Mitch had ridden at top speed to Roland's office; as he'd come charging down the back alley, he'd heard shots ring out. Dismounting quickly, he'd drawn his gun and raced up the steps as quietly as possible. He'd just reached the landing outside Roland's office when he heard Roland order Jon's death and then refer to his own shanghaiing. Withdrawing into the shadows, Mitch waited for the two gunmen to emerge with Jon; then he watched as Roland quickly closed the door behind them.
"Hold it right there," he hissed as he leveled his gun at their backs.
"What the . . ." They froze.
"Very quietly, put my brother down," Mitch directed, and as Joe bent low and released Jon, Mitch pistol-whipped him, knocking him unconscious. "Now . . ." he continued, but as he faced Bill, the office door opened again and Roland walked out.
Roland had heard low voices coming from the landing, and he was wondering why the men hadn't already gone. "Why the hell haven't you—Mitch!"
Bill jumped at Mitch then, knocking the gun from his hand just as Roland started to draw his derringer. Throwing off the wounded gunman, Mitch tackled Roland about the legs, driving him back into the office. They wrestled violently, each struggling for possession of the small pistol. Roland sought to point the gun toward Mitch, but each time Mitch managed to force the gun barrel away.
Meanwhile, Bill regained his feet and, gun in hand, staggered toward the office door. He watched the two men grappling for position and was about to shoot Mitch when he felt the pressure of a gun on his back. "Don't move or you're a dead man!" Jon said softly.
Though he was weak and dizzy from loss of blood after he'd regained consciousness, Jon had grabbed Mitch's discarded gun and then gone after Bill. He was greatly relieved when the gunman dropped his weapon in surrender, and as he kicked it aside, the police arrived.
Charging up the stairs, the officers barged into the office and started to separate Mitch and Roland when another gunshot blasted through the room.
"Oh, God . . . Mitch!" Jon roughly shoved Bill out of the way in his desperation to check on Mitch.
Gasping for breath, Mitch pushed Roland's dead weight off him and slowly rose to his feet.
"Quick . . . check that man and see if he's alive," one of the policemen ordered, and while another officer hastened to do his bidding, he turned to Mitch and Jon. "Is one of you Mitchell Williams?"
"I am," Mitch told him. "I'm glad you got here."
"This one's dead," the other policeman declared.
"All right. Now, what's this all about?" the first officer demanded, eyeing Mitch and Jon suspiciously.
"This man"—Mitch indicated Roland—"kidnapped my wife and was trying to blackmai
l me. Here, read this." He handed him Roland's letter. "He'd ordered his gunmen to kill my brother; I got here just as they were taking Jon out. Roland pulled a gun and we fought. You know the rest."
"I see." The officer frowned and then gestured to Bill and to Joe, who'd just stumbled into the grip of a third policeman. "What about these two?"
"They're Stuart's men and they may be responsible for my wife's disappearance."
"Mr. Stuart ordered us to grab her!" Bill protested. "We were just doin' what we were told!"
Mitch's fists clenched and he started toward him. "Where is she? Tell me or I swear, I'll tear you limb from limb!"
Knowing that with Roland dead there was no hope, the man replied, "I don't know exactly where he's keeping her, but Chun Ki has her."
"Chun Ki?" Mitch and Jon exchanged stunned looks. They had heard of the powerful Asian and were well aware of how the man had made his fortune.
Bill nodded. "Harris at the warehouse can tell you more. He's involved in this too! He's the one who deals with Chun Ki the most."
"I've got to find Espri before something happens to her!" Mitch was heading out the door with Jon at his heels.
"Mr. Williams! Wait! This is a police matter and we'd better come with you!" The policeman who was in charge instructed two officers to take Bill and Joe on to jail, while he and a companion helped Mitch rescue his wife.
Mitch turned to face the man, his expression stony. "I appreciate your offer, but I won't let anything endanger my wife's welfare. If it looks as though she'd be harmed in a show of force, I want to try to handle things by myself."
The officer understood his contention and agreed, somewhat reluctantly. "We'll hang back, but if you need us, we'll be there. This Chun Ki has a nasty reputation."
"I know."
They headed straight for Alan's house, intent only on finding Espri, and when they arrived, only Mitch went up the steps.
Laura answered the door, and she was surprised to see him. "Mitch! This is an unexpected pleasure. Come in. How's your lovely wife?"
"Fine," he answered curtly as he entered. "Is Alan here? I need to speak with him right away on an important business matter."
"Why, yes. Go on into the parlor and I'll let him know that you're here," she said cordially.
Mitch stood impatiently by the mantel as he waited for the other man to join him, his thoughts filled with visions of Espri. He hoped—no, he prayed—that Chun Ki had kept her safe. If anything had happened to her . . . refusing to think about that possibility, Mitch strode restlessly to the window and stared out into the blackness of the night. Somewhere out there, Espri was alone and, no doubt, frightened. The thought enraged him, and he derived a primitive satisfaction from knowing that Roland was dead.
Alan entered the parlor nervously. He was frightened, and though he didn't know it yet, he had every reason to be. "Good evening, Mitch," he began, keeping his voice as calm as he could.
"It's over, Alan."
"I don't understand. What's over?"
Mitch's expression was murderous, though he spoke softly. "I had always considered you a friend. You've worked for Jon and me for years, and you chose to help Roland Stuart undermine our business! You disgust me."
"He forced me into it! He threatened to tell Laura of my taste for . . . exotic women."
"I don't want to hear any excuses, Alan. Roland is dead, and you're through working for us. All I want from you now is my wife! Take me to her immediately or I'll reveal your 'tastes' to Laura before I have the police arrest you for helping arrange a kidnapping!"
"I had nothing to do with it!" he cried. "It was all Roland's idea! He was the one who wanted to gain complete control of your company!"
"Then take me to Espri and I'll leave you in peace." There was a quiet menace in Mitch's voice.
"Of course! She's being held by Chun Ki at his main parlor house. Let's go." He rushed from the room, almost colliding with his wife, who was coming to offer them refreshments.
"Alan? Is something wrong?" Laura had never seen her husband so upset before.
"No, my dear. We just have a little unexpected business to take care of. I'm going out for a while, but I'll be back," he quickly assured her.
Laura Harris watched in confusion as Mitch walked past her without speaking and followed Alan from the house.
"There is news, Chun Ki." The slave bowed subserviently before his master who was reclining, nude, with Ah Linn on her comfortable bed.
"Yes?" Chun Ki asked with mild interest, refusing to let Ah Linn cover herself in the other slave's presence.
"Roland Stuart is dead."
He nodded solemnly. "A tragic loss, I am sure. How did it happen?"
"In a fair fight with a man named Williams. That is all I've been able to find out so far."
"I see. Your news pleases me, Sing Chee." He was quiet for a moment for he had noticed the slave's open interest in Ah Linn. "Do you find Ah Linn beautiful?"
"Yes, master. Your woman is very beautiful," the slave replied respectfully.
"Then you may have her. I will be needing her no longer." Chun Ki rose from the bed thinking only of the woman in chains in the room down the hall.
"Chun Ki!" Ah Linn started to protest, but a threatening look silenced her and she lay back, resigned to her fate. Drawing on his clothing, Chun Ki left the room.
Unlocking the door to the narrow, windowless room where Espri was being held, he entered and smiled as he saw her still lying quietly on the bed. A flare of desire surged through him, but he denied it. While it was true that he wanted her and that she was now his, Chun Ki was determined that he would wait until the drug wore off so she would be completely aware of what was happening when he made love to her. Backing silently out of the room, he returned to his own quarters to await her awakening.
Alan had frequented Chun Ki's "parlor house" on numerous occasions, and he was familiar with the people who worked there. Ming Toy recognized him immediately and went to greet him.
"Mr. Harris. It is good to see you. You have brought a friend?" She eyed Mitch admiringly.
"I am not here for enjoyment tonight, Ming Toy. It is important that I speak with Chun Ki immediately."
She noticed his tenseness, and after bringing them both a drink and settling them at a table, she went to tell her master of his request.
"Chun Ki, Alan Harris is here and he says it's important that he talk to you."
"Harris?" Chun Ki found the news interesting. Had Roland's employee come to inform him of his death?
She nodded.
"Send him up."
"He is not alone. There is another white man with him. A very handsome white man."
"Keep him happy while Harris and I meet."
"Yes, Chun Ki."
Ming Toy returned to the main parlor.
"He will meet with you now, Mr. Harris," she said.
"Thank you, Ming Toy." Alan stood up nervously and would have walked away, but Mitch grabbed his arm.
"I'm going with you, Alan. Who's to say you won't sneak out the back door and leave me here?" His tone was so savage that Alan quickly assented.
"I'm sorry." Ming Toy tried to stop Mitch, but he easily moved past her. "You cannot go. Chun Ki said only Mr. Harris!"
Mitch turned toward her, his gun drawn. "I don't want to cause trouble here, but I will if I'm crossed. I only want to talk with Chun Ki—just talk."
Three armed guards appeared around them, knives drawn, but Mitch did not waver.
"Tell them, Alan," Mitch said menacingly.
"There is no problem," Alan said, and the guards backed off a little; but they followed them down the hall to Chun Ki's office.
"Come in, Alan," Chun Ki called out. When the door opened and he saw Mitch, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "I was told that only you wanted to speak with me."
"This is the husband of the woman you are keeping here for Stuart," Alan hurried to explain. "We have come for her."
"Oh?" Chun Ki's expression
remained inscrutable.
Mitch's jaw tensed as he sensed the man's reluctance. "Chun Ki. You are a man of power and influence in this city. I would not want it known that you were holding a white woman against her will. It might cause irreparable damage to your reputation and your business."
The Asian pierced Mitch with a deadly gaze. "You must be a very brave man or a very stupid one."
"I am neither. I have had something that I treasure greatly stolen from me, and I want it back," he answered, uncowed by Chun Ki's subtle threat.
"I see." The Chinese man paused. "And if I don't return her?"
"One man is already dead and the police are involved in this now. They have arrested the other men who were involved in my wife's disappearance. We know she's here so it would be wise to return her to me. Otherwise . . ." Mitch let the sentence hang, and the three vicious-looking guards took a threatening step toward him.
Chun Ki held up his hand to stop them. Knowing that the authorities were involved changed the complexion of the situation. "She is a lovely woman, your wife."
"Yes. She is," Mitch answered sharply.
"Would you consider selling her?" Chun Ki asked.
Mitch stiffened. "She is my wife, not my slave!"
Chun Ki shrugged. "There is little difference." Although he found Espri to be a rare jewel, he knew he wouldn't risk his business for her. After all, she was only a woman. Beckoning to his guards, he handed them two keys. "Take them to her."
The men bowed before him and then led Mitch and Alan from the room. Mitch could barely contain his anxiety as he followed them down the dark, narrow hallway, and he waited impatiently while they unlocked the door of her room. One guard finally swung the door open and stepped aside to let him enter.
Mitch's throat tightened as he stared down at Espri, and he quickly went to her, kneeling beside the bed and calling her name softly, desperately. "Espri, darling . . ." When she didn't respond immediately, he became worried and glanced back at Alan questioningly.
"She's been drugged, Mitch." Alan recognized the signs; he'd seen them often.
"I'm getting her out of here." Mitch started to lift Espri, but the clanking of the chain that bound her ankle stopped him and he glared down at it aghast. "My God! Give me that other damn key!"